Gyrfalcon's Keep fool me once, strike one. fool me twice, strike three.

A voice startled Maia out of her current stupor, and she opened a bleary eye to look at this stranger who seemed... concerned?

Latching onto that sympathy in an appropriately immature fashion, and also just truly feeling horrible, Maia let out a bit of a whine.  When she spoke, her voice took on a plaintive edge as well, almost subconsciously.  "I think I'm dying," she whimpered, tucking further into herself.

She wasn't exactly expecting charity, but the stranger had asked.  She was never getting near another beach again if this was what seawater did to a body.